


After

by PrideandPadawans



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bruce tries, Gen, Jason is a good brother, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, batfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-03-07 13:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13435239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrideandPadawans/pseuds/PrideandPadawans
Summary: One night things become to much for Tim and a then he wakes up in the hospital after trying to kill himself. How to you talk to the people you just tried to leave?





	1. Chapter 1

The worst part is waking up the next day. Tim’s eyes peel open to blinding fluorescent lights. The room blinks into focus around him. There's the beep of a heart monitor and the heavy smell of antiseptic.  The sound comes in loud and the lights are so bright. His senses are cranked up to 11. Where the hell is he? Tim wills his brain to go faster and his mind is trying to. It’s like there’s something stuck that's slowing it down. Someone filled his head up with molasses. A pale hand taps against a plastic rail on the side of the bed.  Fish painted on the wall in front of him come into focus. He’s in a hospital. Correction, Tim thinks, a pediatric hospital. What happened? A tall figure sits curled up in a ball in the chair next to Tim obviously asleep. It’s Dick. 

Tim tries to call him but it just comes out like a horse breath of air. His throat is horribly dry. Tim tries again and makes enough noise at least the Dick stirs. He repositions in the chair and makes eye contact with Tim. “Tim!” Dick hurries to sit up. 

“Yeah.” Tim tries to say in a long wheeze.  Dick reaches down and grabs his water bottle. Tim reaches for it, realizing how weak his arms feel. There's a pull of an IV in his arm. He should've assumed there's an IV in him. He woke up in the hospital. Tim finally grabs Dick’s water bottle which is now open. He takes a few sips before coughing roughly. 

Dick looks over concerned inside of what to do. Tim manages to catch his breath. “My throat's dry.” Tim says a little less horsey before trying to drink some more. 

“You’ve been out for four days and they tubed you.”

Tim minds races over his last memories. Everything seems fuzzing and in bits and pieces. “Imma go tell someone you're up okay?”

Dick waits for Tim to respond. It's like watching the news and there's a delay between the studio and field. Tim is running a few seconds behind and every moment that passes Dick looks more worried. 

“Yeah.” Dick stands up and walks over to the door.

“I'll be right back okay?” 

“Yeah.” Tim repeats absently.  Dick leaves and slowly Tim’s mind  gradually comes together. He remembers breaking down. He was so tired of everything. He knew what to do and how to get it done. It should of taken an hour for all the pills to take effect. He had a plan to be successful and somehow he fucked it up.

A nurse follows Dick into room. “How are you feeling?” The nurse asks. 

“horse.” The harshness in his throat is the only thing he feels right now. More physical senses are slowly getting the switched turned on, but its only his throat right now.

“I'll go grab you some water and ice. I’ll be right back.”

The nurse steps out of the room and Tim gets a good look at Dick as he stands at the end of the bed. His eyes are dark and it's clear that he barely slept. Has he been here the whole time? Of course he has because that's what Dick does. How could he have been so stupid? 

The nurse walks back in with a pitcher and a Styrofoam cup. The cup has a lid and a straw and she passes it to Tim. He sucks it slowly and realizes a burning in his lungs after each swallow. The nurse checks his IV and heart rate. She walks down to the door of the bed and puts her hands against Tim’s flexed feet and has him push down. He does. She look down his throat and does a few other tests and checks. “I'd say you are very lucky. The doctor will be in soon to look over everything and a psychiatrist will be here tomorrow morning.” Tim just nods. His neck is stiff. “Let me know if you need anything. There's a button right next to the bed.” The nurse leaves. 

Dick sits back down and a silence fills the room. “Sorry.” Tim says quietly.

“It's not your fault.”

“It is though. I did this to myself.”

“Hey. You'll get better.” There’s a slight hopeful and sad smile on Dick’s lips.

Tim sighs. “What happened? After I...”

“My laptop wouldn't turn on and I couldn’t fix it. So I went to your room to see if you could. You didn't answer the door so I pushed it open.” Dick wasn't looking at him. “You looked asleep and not passed out but like actually voluntarily asleep. That's when I knew something was wrong.” He pauses. “Then you starting convulsing. And I freaked out. I think Alfred called the ambulance. I don't know. They had to get a tube into your stomach and one into your lungs. Somehow you threw-” 

“-Stop.” Tim croaks out. He got the message. It was rough. A pit forms in his stomach weighing him down against the bed. He can’t believe he made them go through that. It was supposed to be peaceful. Just don’t wake up. How’d he fuck this up so bad? Dick is clearly hurt by the whole things. Tim watched him fight back tears as he said what happened. It was supposed to be calm and smooth. No one would miss him. Not really. Now he is wake and Dick is hurt and he has no fucking idea about what to do. Worse of all, Dick is waiting for Tim to say something.

Tim opens his mouth to talk but only a rough cough comes out. Dick passes Tim the cup that he doesn’t remember setting down. Tim stops coughing and takes a sip. The cold water feels nice on his sore throat. Dick’s phone buzzes. “Everyone is here.’

Tim is not looking forward to this. He just wants to curl up in a ball and throw a blanket over his head. He couldn’t do that because his body still didn’t want to play nice with him. Guess he deserves it, he did try to kill it.

“What do I say to them?”

“I don’t know Timmy.” Dick said standing up. Tim sighs. “I’m going to show them where you are. They moved you this morning, okay?”

“Okay.” Dick steps out and Tim looks for where the bed adjuster is. He finds the remote right by his left hand. He rises the bed so he’s sitting up a little more. He figures it looks less humiliating. He looks around the room. The hallway wall is clear. He hadn’t noticed that before. It's probably so they can stop him from trying again. He knew he should of gone with a more effective method, but he thought he could figure out the right combination to do it quietly. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as he thought. 

His thoughts get interrupted by his family entering the room.  Tim reads their faces they all hold various degrees of worry except for Jason. Jason just looks pissed. Of course he looks pissed. He’s been there done that on the whole death thing. It wasn’t his choice, but this was Tim’s. Tim sinks into the bed a little bit. 

There is a brief awkward pause where no one says anything, until Alfred speaks. “I believe I speak for all of us when I say it is truly wonderful to see you wake and alert.”

“Yeah, awake.” Tim knew he wasn’t till fixed. Sound sounds like it's coming through a telephone and it's taking all of his energy to focus on Alfred and everyone. 

“It just stinks you didn't wake up speaking Creole or something.” Jason says trying to make joke. Its obvious his heart isn't in it. He leans against the back wall. 

“Would’ve been cool.” No one wants to address the elephant in the room. No one wants to talk about it. The room stands in silence. Maybe it's not that no one wants to talk about but that no one knows what to say. This family isn’t good with words maybe that's why Cassandra just walked up to him and hugged him without saying a word. Tim smiles and thanks her, but Cass doesn't let go. Dick walks up to the other side and joins in saying, “group hug.” To Tim’s surprise Damian joins next then Alfred followed by Bruce and lastly Jason. They stay like that for a while just being glad that everyone is there. 

Slowly everyone pulls back and no one comments about. Dick just beams and Tim starts to feel worse. Never before has everyone grouped hug. Dick looks at his phone before stepping out. 

“Has he left here?” Tim asks everyone. 

“No.” Bruce says. 

“Sorry.”

“Should be.” Jason says 

“-Jason.” Bruce warns. 

“Oh come on are we not going talk about this.” He spits out angrily. 

“Master Jason.” Jason looks at Alfred. Everyone knows better than to go against him. Jason instead just turns to leave. He stops at the door and turns to Tim. “Be lucky you're sitting right there because you don't want it the other way.” Jason leaves. 

The room falls back to awkward silence until Dick arrives with Stephanie and Barbara. Steph just looks at him unsure what to do. She has a right to mad. She had a right to be upset. Barbara looked calm and weirdly understanding.  “Hey Barbara. Hey Steph.” 

“Are you okay?” She asks looking right at him.

“I’m fine.”

“No your not.” Tim looks at her. It’s confused. Its hurt. 

“Uh, guys can I...” Bruce nods and Alfred pushes everyone to the door and down the hall out of sight of the glass walls. “I’m not okay.”

“No shit.” Steph grabs the chair next to Tim. “Why didn’t you say anything? I saw you an hour before. An hour Tim.”

“I know.” He reaches for the water and takes a sip. “When I left I didn’t know I was going to. I had this plan forever and I never thought I’d enact it. I’ve come close, but I was just so tired.”

“You could of talked to any of us.”

“I couldn't of talked to Bruce about it or Damian or Jason. Dick would've just told Bruce.”

“Could of told me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Should be.” Steph says. “Promise me you won't do this again.”

Tim pauses for a moment. He could lie to her and say that does promise, but he doesn’t know if he has enough sense to make her believe. He hates seeing all the hurt that he caused, but part of him feels like he isn't supposed to be here. He fucked it up. He failed. 

“Maybe that's not fair.” Steph says. “Just don't shut yourself off and lie your way out of it. I know you can convince every professional here that there's nothing wrong. Just take help.”

“I will.” There is a knock at the door and a Doctor stands there. 

“Timothy Drake?” he asks walking in.

Steph stands up and says she'll get out of his way and steps outside. 

“Thats a good family you go there. Im Dr. Daniels” The doctor walks over to the IV drip and looks at it.

“I know.”

“Can you tell me what happened, Tim?” 

“I tried to kill myself.”

“Thats a good. How do you feel?”

“Mentally or physically?”   
“Both.”

“Tired.  But my chest and throat aches.”

“That's to be expected. We had to pump your stomach and clear out your lungs because you vomited into them. Similarly you are on a muscle relaxer incase of any seizure or convulsions.” Tim knows all this. It's pretty standard. He could recite it all back to the doctor if he wanted to. He doesn't want to so he half pays attention as the doctor goes on about IV, drip feeding, catheters. How he should be able to move better in a few hours. How his throat will be sore for a bit. 

The Doctor talks about how the psychiatrist will be in tomorrow and how they're going to hold him for at least 72 hours. 

“What time is it?” Tim asks with no clue of it's it's early or late. 

“It's 10 pm.” Early for him. “So I suggest you try and get some rest. But I need to ask you a few questions first.” Tim tells him to go ahead. “Do you feel safe at home?”

“Yes.”

“Have you thought about hurting others?”

“No.”

“Are you having thoughts about hurting yourself?”

“Not at this moment, no.”

“Well that's a place to start. I will get a nurse to come and remove the catheter.” The doctor leaves and a nurse shows up. Tim avoids eye contact the entire time and by the time she leaves feels even worse about the whole situation. 

He wants to feel normal again. Tim swings his legs slowly off the side of the bed. His body aches and his muscles feel weak. Tim carefully pushes himself up into a sitting position and onto his feet. His head does light and he grabs on to the IV pole for balance and mobility. 

“You shouldn't be standing.” A nurse says standing behind him and starling him. 

“I had to get out of bed.” The nurse takes him free arm and supports him. “I want to go for a walk.”

“Okay.” The nurse takes her time leading Tim to the door and into the hall. He grabs on to the wall. “You know. I’ve never seen anybody hope out of bed less than two hours after waking up.”

“Guess I’m special.” Tim states flatly. He focusing on moving right now, on how weak he is, and on how pathetic he must look. 

“Id say. Your brother hasn’t left that room in 4 days. Must really care about you.”

“He cares about everyone.”

“Not everyone has family that does that.” The nurse says before changing the topic. “Let's get you something for your stomach and your throat. How about a popsicle?”

“Sounds good.” The nurse had Tim grab on to a railing as she goes to a fridge on the other side of the hall. She pulls out two popsicles and puts them in her pocket. 

“Let's get you back to the room.” They turn around and talk the two doors back. 

The nurse puts the bed up more for TIm and guides him into it. She pulls out the popsicles unwraps one and hands it to Tim. She sets another on the side table. “Thats for your brother.”

“Thanks.” Tim says taking a llick. It feels nice going down his throat. The nurse steps out and minutes later only Dick, Bruce, and Alfred walk back in. Tim is confused by the suddenly smaller crowd, but is grateful. 

“Only adults are allowed back  this late.” Bruce explains. Tim nods, but everyone was in her five minutes ago. Was it five minutes ago?  

“A nurse gave you a popsicle Dick.” Tim gestures to the wrapped popsicle on the table. Dick walks over and takes it.  “You should go home.” Tim says to Dick. “I mean thanks for being here, but you should go to bed.

“I am Babs is waiting for me.” Tim nods. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Dick walks out. 

“And I must take Master Damian and Miss Stephanie back home.” Alfred says. 

“I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Of course.” That leaves Bruce in the room. He sits down in the chair next to Tim. The weight of the silence pulls Tim down further into the bed. There is nothing and then they both start at the same time. 

“You go,” Tim says.

Bruce pauses for a moment. “How long, Tim?”

“Have I been thinking about this? Since before I met you, Bruce. Since as long as I can remember.” Bruce doesn’t say anything else. “My head  has never been a nice place.”

“I know.” Tim knows they all knew something was wrong with him. No ‘okay’ person keeps his habits. But none of them knew how to help him. He deflected every attempt. . 

“You guys tried. I just didn’t.” Tim looks up at the ceiling. “Look you don’t have to babysit me. I’m not going to try to leave.”

“I’m not babysitting you.” 

Tim rolls over and says that he's tired. He’s not. He just doesn’t want to deal with Bruce. 

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim heads home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So heres the second part. I kept putting off updateing it because I wasnt pleased with it. But sometimes you just got to let something go. So yeah sorry about the 6 month gap.

They let Tim out three days later after giving him a bunch of antianxiety and antidepressants. He also has a scheduled appointment with an outpatient psychiatrist. Alfred, Dick, and Cassandra came to pick him up and physically Tim is feeling better. He can move around now and eat real food. The drive to the manor seems to take hours and when they finally pull up Tim hesitates at the door. He isn’t supposed to be back here. Cass reaches over and pats his shoulder smiling and reassuring him. He steps out into the chilly fall air. 

It takes forever to reach the inside of the manor and when he does the smell hits him. There’s the chandelier that everyone has to hang off of at least once. The banisters that act more like next level balance beams than railings. The kitchen where Alfred remarks on his coffee drinking and Dick’s cereal eating. The room where they just fuck with people during Bruce’s stupid galas. The long dark wood hallways that stretch on. Light pours in through the tall windows. 

Tim feels everyone's eyes watching him. They're not even trying to hide it. They want to know his next move. “Imma go my room.” He says walking down the hallway. The first thing has does is find his phone. It's on the floor kicked under the bed. He bends down and grabs it. His fingers press the home button but he only gets a black screen in response. Tim reaches up onto his night stand and plugs it in. The bed frame supports his back and his head flops back against the mattress. This is the first moment of privacy that Tim has had since that night. Since he sat up on the bed and took everything he planned in a properly timed manor. His eyes well up and the tears feel cold against his cheeks. How did he fuck up this badly? He hurt everyone around him and messed everything up. He failed. He failed them. He failed himself. He failed at what was suppose to be the easiest thing out there. His brain confuses him. A part still wants to just give up and die, there no doubt in that. But another voice says ‘look at what you’ve done. You can’t do that again.’ But maybe that would be better off if he never came here. If he never existed. The they wouldn't be mad him. He wouldn’t of fucked up this bad if they didn't have him around. 

Tim shoves the palms of his hands into his eyes. There's a knock at the door frame that Tim never closed. Cassandra stands there. She walks over and sit next to Tim. “I’m sorry.” he says wiping his face quickly. 

“It's okay.” Tim reaches into the bottom drawer on his night stands and fishes around on the bottom for a bit before pulling out a mini Hershey's bar. His fingers rip the wrapper off and snaps the bar in half, giving Cass a piece. She leans against Tim’s shoulder as she takes little bites of the chocolate squares. Tim doesn't eat his. 

 

No one wakes Tim up the next morning. He reaches his phone and reads the clock. 1 pm. A groan escapes his lips and he rolls out of bed. Tim drags his feet over to the shower.There is just something about showing back at home. Tim thinks it's the water. The water at the hospital was weird, but Tim wasn’t put together enough to figure out what it was. He gets out and slips on the first clothes he finds. There are a pair of jeans that keep sliding down. He remembers them fitting last a week ago. Tim doesn’t bother with socks or shoes and walks down the hall. Dick’s voice carries out of the kitchen. Tim ducks out of the way and makes his way down to the cave. Bruce sits at the computer. The cave is silent except for the click of keys. Tim walks up to the computer and looks on the screen. “What up?”

“Nothing.” Bruce says glancing at Tim before looking back.

“Really because it looks like murder.”

“Two vics.” 

“They look nearly identical. Let me guess found miles apart on different days.”

“-Tim you don’t have to.”

“Bruce, I am losing my mind upstairs.” Bruce gives him a disappointed look. “Okay bad choice of words. Look, don’t want me on the field I get that, but I can sit at a computer.”

Tim can tell Bruce is debating about what to do. He stands up and passes Tim the chair. “Let me know what you find.” Bruce walks down further into the cave. Tim can

tell that he staying in places where he can see him. Probably making sure he doesn’t grab anything dangerous. Tim hates the fact that he’s being watched, but knows it isn’t his place to say anything. 

Tim looks up at the screen, glad that he found something else to occupy his head besides his thoughts. Tim loses track of time and eventually Alfred is telling him that dinner is upstairs. 

Tim is the last person to make it to the table. He slinks down into a chair next to Dick. Usually at this time there was already a fight breaking out, but instead the silence was concerning. Tim pokes at the potatoes on his plate with his fork. He wasn’t hungry. Everyone looking at their plates. No one wants to say anything or no one knows what to say anything. Its his fault. He went and ruined everything. Tim pokes again at the mashed potatoes, before scooting his chair back and standing up. “I’m sorry” He says before leaving the room. 

Tim goes down to the garage hops on his bike and drives out of the manor. 

 

He shouldn’t be here. He knows Jason is pissed at him. Still, Tim knocks on the door to his apartment. The door opens a minute later. 

“That bad at the manor?” Jason asks flatly. 

“Yeah.” Tim pauses for a moment. “Look I know I fucked up.” 

“How?” Tim looks at him confused. “Did you fuck up by trying or by surviving?”

Tim hesitates for a moment and Jason takes that as his answer. “Get in here.” Jason steps out of the way and pushes the door open all the way. Tim walks in. 

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m pissed at you, but I get it. I mean I get it more than Goldie or Bruce will.” Tim sits down on Jason’s couch. Jason sits down on the other end’s armrest. “Talk.”

“I don’t know what to say. That’s the problem.”

Jason pulls out his phone. “Dick is looking for you. I told him you're here.” Tim nods. “You scared him.”

“I know.”

“Tim, that was the most scared I'd ever seen him. He was terrified.” 

“I get it Jason. I get that I fucking hurt everyone okay?” 

“No. You don’t. You are so full of bullshit and everybody knows it.”

“I am n-”

“Yes you are. You tell everyone that your fine, but we all know you're not. God, Dicks trying to help you, but you shut down. So for once just shut up and talk.” Jason knows it comes out harsher than he means, but he is going to make sure that Tim is okay. Even if it means screaming at him. 

Tim says quiet for a minute. He air grows anxious as Jason says nothing and just waits for Tim to respond. 

“My brain wants me dead.” Tim pauses. He waits for Jason to do something. It doesn't come. He starts back up. “There's no better way to put it. My brain just keeps on telling me stuff. I'm always fighting with it. And no one can help. And I'm tired Jason.” Tim says with a sigh.

Jason doesn’t say anything. He lets TIm continue. “That's what I can't stand. I don't need people hovering around. I'm not fragile. I’m just...” Tim trails off thinking of a word, “defective.”

“Big deal, everyone defective. No one we know is right up there.”

“Dick seems to-”

“No Dick is so scared of losing people that he grabs on to them too hard. You do the opposite and both you need to find some middle ground, but he isn’t the one who tried to kill himself. So right now you have to give.”

“I don't know...” TIm trails off. 

“Don’t know what? If you can? If you even know how? Of course you don't know how because you keep everyone at arm's length. But you better try something, because if you pull that shit again, I will end you. Get it Tim?” Tim nods. “Good.” Jason stand up off the couch. “I need a drink.” Jason walks over toward the fridge and pulls out a can of beer. He walks back over and cracks it open, before sitting on the couch. Jason reaches between the couch cushion and pulls out a TV remote. He clicks the TV on and it goes right to a rerun of a Three Stooges movie. “You know we all love you right, even B and the Demon?” Jason asks looking at the TV.

“Yeah.” Tim says and for the first time in a while he feels a tiny bit closer to a possibilty of being alright. 


End file.
